


Promised with Intent

by orphan_account



Series: Blood Enemies [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Danger, Gen, Kid Fic, LITERALLY, Louis is magic, M/M, Pre-Slash, except he's sort-of not in this, mentioned vaguely, vampire!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So there's a blood-curse on Louis that prevents him from using his magic.  And there's Hecate only knows how many vampires on the other side of his wards.  And all he's got to defend himself is a fireplace poker.  They're still not going to take his son from him, not while he's still breathing.</p>
<p>Staring down at his son's terrified, lost expression he comes to a decision.  He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't have to like it.  The desire to protect his child at all costs is the only thing that could ever make him consider an alliance with his hated enemy-a vampire from the Styles Clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promised with Intent

**Author's Note:**

> When plotting out longer works i often write little "prequels" or "deleted scenes" set in the universe just to get a feel for characterizations, world-building, backstories, etc. That's what this was supposed to be, and it was never supposed to see the light of day. But I like it. And I think it nicely sets up where the longer piece is headed so I'm making it a sort of teaser/prequel/vignette. 
> 
> I'm currently working on the next part of the series, which is a prompt fill for the Harry and Louis Harlequin Romance Fest. Any and all feedback welcomed (and could potentially inform the direction of the follow-up).

The whisper of cloth against skin as he moved slowly, so achingly slowly, so that he remained soundless. 

The trickle of sweat at his temple—adrenaline and cramped space dueling for the right to ratchet his temperature higher. 

The burn of impotent magic under his skin, bound within him by an arcane blood magic he didn’t dare trifle with. 

All these things barely registered with Louis when he wrapped a hand over Jay’s mouth, his only concern not squeezing too tightly in his agitated state.  It was a clumsy attempt to stifle the boy’s panicked breathing—bursts of hot, moist air itching at the taut flesh over Louis’ knuckles—but it was all that could be done in the moment.

Jay didn’t fight his father’s hold, slumping into it, letting Louis hug him close to his chest, and seeming comforted by him physically taking charge of the situation.

Louis wanted to pay more attention to the signs that his son might be dissociating from the reality of what was going on, but his entire being was narrowed down to the sound of the footfalls right on the other side of the wall, or well, the _illusion_ of a wall.  For the first time in his life he was intensely glad that he’d moved into his ancestral home after Eleanor’s murder.  Even though he was currently incapable of casting, this place was layered with protections so dense and powerful they could manifest both the look and feel solid walls in the middle of an empty room at the mere _suggestion_ of a threat, all on their own.

_Thud. Thud. Shrush. Shrush._  

Boots against the weathered wood and capes just deigning to kiss the floor as their wearers crept along in an attempt at stealth—ominous sounds to a man huddled in fear and all but defenseless.  Louis’ entire body thrummed with nervous energy in time to each soft noise only a few scant feet and an ancient ward away, caught between the instinctive need to run or to fight.  _Fucking vampires._   Fucking vampires in his _Hecate-damned_ house.  Louis was going to peel the skin off every last one like a fucking orange before this was over, current magic-limiting-blood-curses be damned. 

Long minutes passed; Louis’ limbs shook with the effort of holding both himself and his young child still, and his magic pulsed and thickened in his blood in an agonizing wave of fire.  If it was just him, if he weren’t protecting the only thing he still cared about in life, he’d simply take a step forward and shatter the ward’s illusion.  He wouldn't let the Styles Clan take him alive again. He’d fight the fucking bloodsuckers invading his home, like they had the Medea fucking right, even hampered as he was by his inability to use his magic.  He was pretty sure the poker by the fireplace still had a few nasty spells cast on it.  Louis would take his chances.

But not with Jay.  Never with Jay.  Louis would hide in the shadows and let the shame of having to rely on his _family wards_ to conceal him haunt his memory for eternity if it meant keeping Jay safe, if it meant they couldn’t take him away.

Eventually, the soft echo of footsteps faded, then disappeared entirely, leaving an empty void in the energy of the house.

Louis let out a breath he felt as if he’d been holding forever.  His lungs certainly burned as if he had done.  Relaxing his hold, he looked down at Jay; his son was in bad shape.  His already pale skin was entirely colorless, except for the faint bruises beneath his eyes.  Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, gathering enough to already be already darkening the hair at his temples from platinum to something resembling dishwater.  Most disconcerting though, was the glassiness of his eyes.  This was more than simply an adrenaline overload in response to being frightened; this was _need_ welling up in the young half-vampire.  Louis swallowed down his instinctive terror and focused on reassuring his son.  He wasn’t afraid _of_ Jay, couldn’t ever imagine that, but more afraid _for_ him, and for his inability to help him.

Jay stared up at him, fear written in every tight angle he held his young body in.  “Dad?” he mouthed soundlessly.

It suddenly hit Louis that he could have never heard his son say that word again.  That the Styles Clan members that just left could have taken Jay and he’d have been powerless to stop them—enchanted fireplace poker aside.  A shudder of horror crawled up Louis’ spine and starbursts of salmon and fuchsia burst beneath his skin.  His magic wanted to come out and play, shot through with a mix of his rage and helplessness, but the blood seal on it held tight and all that happened was another fireworks display of embarrassingly mood-coded colors under his skin.  Ignoring the raw ache of his magic building and battering the inside of his body unused, he smoothed lank, sweaty blond hair off Jay’s forehead.  “It’s okay.  We’re okay.”  His voice was barely a croak, the sound of it so broken it was like he’d swallowed a handful of glass and it shredded his throat, and his words, on the way down.

Jay began shaking and he didn’t stop, trembling in the dark.  There was a hungry, desperate look in his eyes.

Louis cupped both hands over the sides of Jay’s face and tipped his son’s head back.  With a heavy sigh he drew Jay closer and leaned down to press his forehead against his son’s.  He stared at Jay from a distance close enough to count every last one of the faint freckles dotting his nose.  “Everything’s going to be okay, Jay.  I promise.”  He’d do whatever it took to make it so.

Jay reached up and curled his tiny fingers around each of Louis’ wrists.  His thumbs unerringly found Louis’ thundering pulse.  “Dad?”  His voice wavered, not just _projecting_ his uncertainty, but lobbing it directly at Louis’ head.

Not daring to answer the question Jay was certainly asking without vocalizing, Louis squeezed his eyes shut.  “I promise.”  That promise was going to seal their fates.  Louis knew what he had to do; he just didn’t want to.

Merlin’s balls, he was going to have to find a vampire he could trust.  Where in the three hells was he going to find one of those?

A horrifying, terrible idea bloomed in Louis' mind. He was a stupid motherfucker for even considering it, but the truth was: he was out of options. And he knew exactly where to find a vampire that hated the Styles Clan just as much as Louis did-it's very own prodigal son. He might not be able to _trust_ Harry Styles, but the enemy of my enemy was my friend and all that.

Seeing the way Jay's lips trembled and he tried moving them with a painful slowness to avoid cutting them on his new and awkward fangs crystallized the insane idea in Louis' brain. Harry Styles was going to fucking help them whether he liked it or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Not trying to be a review-whore, (although I am a straight-up shameless slut for praise) but in all seriousness this account exists specifically for me to experiment with my writing, and I can't know the results of that experiment without some feedback, so, yeah.


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